


Wait For It

by idelthoughts



Series: Tumblr Ask Box Fic [4]
Category: Forever (TV)
Genre: Established Relationship, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Tumblr Ask Box Fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-02-20
Updated: 2015-02-20
Packaged: 2018-03-14 00:16:33
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,139
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3401411
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/idelthoughts/pseuds/idelthoughts
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Henry normally has the patience of a saint, but Jo's little game is proving to be a challenge.</p><p>Established Mortinez.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Wait For It

**Author's Note:**

> Let's be honest, this is straight up porn. 
> 
> This is a response to multiple mortinez-themed prompts: Henry’s both dry and extremely prolific orgasms, as well as his appreciation for dirty talk, and Jo tired out from all that screwing. 
> 
> Established Mortinez, because I can’t figure out how this would all happen in less than 50,000 words otherwise. Unbeta'd.

She’d been teasing him all day, off and on.    
  
Certainly the first time had been unintentional; a quick morning tumble interrupted by a phone call, and then the moment had been lost when Jo had groaned and cursed leaving her phone on.  She’d dropped a kiss on his lips and smiled a promise that they’d get to this later, and so Henry had laid in bed savouring his lingering arousal rather than finishing himself off.  
  
Though the way she made him feel, he could easily manage an orgasm now on his own, and still find the energy and enthusiasm for later.  He wasn’t a terribly sexual person, quite content with the intimate warmth of love and affection, but the newness of her and their relationship was very…motivating.    
  
He smiled into the pillow at his own youthful silliness—a rare and lovely thing to indulge in, these days—and crawled out of bed to join her for breakfast.  
  
But the unresolved tension of their morning didn’t fade, and he kept snagging her for lingering kisses when she brushed past him in the small space of her kitchen, her sly smile telling him she knew exactly where his mind was at.  But they had nowhere to rush off to, and a day of lounging in her house and letting himself appreciate her body definitely had its appeal.  
  
Jo put her breakfast dish in the sink and started running the water, and Henry moved behind her to do the same, pressing himself against her body once he’d discarded the dish, taking the chance to nuzzle her neck, smiling at her gentle huff of laughter.  
  
“You are something else today,” she said, a smile in her voice.  
  
“Can’t help it.”  Her hair was up in a loose bun, and he took full advantage of having access to the long line of her expose neck, laying open-mouthed kisses all the way up.  “You’re beautiful.  Absolutely gorgeous.  Irresistible.”  
  
And she was, now that he let himself think about it.  His mind was already wandering to the possibility of luring her back to bed.  Or just having her here, if she’d oblige him, leaned over the kitchen counter.    
  
She snorted indelicately.  
  
“You sound like a romance novel, you know.”  
  
“And you quite like it,” he murmured into her ear.  
  
She ground her rear back against him, pressing against his growing erection.  He sighed, hands going from the curve of her hips up to cup her breasts, thumbs finding her nipples through the thin cotton tank-top she’d thrown on, and she rewarded him with another grind of her pelvis back again.  Oh, she was delightful.  
  
“I like you like this,” she said, her voice warm and amused, but he could hear the breathy edge as he played with her nipples.  “Look at all this attention I get when you’re all hot and bothered.  I should make you wait for it more often.”  
  
“As much attention as you like,” he promised, and his hand slid down to between her legs, fingers brushing soft against her.  “Whatever you like.  Right here, if you like.”  
  
“Jesus, Henry.”    
  
Her hands were braced on the counter now; she ground back against him in earnest and his head dropped to her shoulder, forehead pressing against her as he groaned.  She twisted in his arms and kissed him, her teeth clicking against his and catching his lip in a painful pinch, and he pressed her hard against the edge of the counter, grabbing one of her thighs and bring it up so he could better grind against her, hear that delicious moan she made when she was aroused.  
  
Damn that, he wanted to hear her moan and pant her way through her orgasm, and he wasn’t going to wait.  He grabbed at her thighs and shifted them over so they weren’t in front of the sink, and lifted her enough to get her seated on the edge of the counter.  She wrapped her arms over his shoulders, working with him, and she laughed into the kiss.  
  
“What are you doing?  Going to fuck me in my kitchen?”  
  
For whatever reason—he couldn’t fathom why, because they were just words, really—but hearing such crude and blunt terms coming out of her mouth drove him mad in the best way possible.  He hooked his fingers into her underwear and worked them off her, any patience or art long gone.  
  
“Not quite,” he said, his voice gone deep, “but close.”  
  
She gasped as he made his way down her body to the crux of her legs, laying a hot and wet kiss against her, tongue broad and flat and working into her folds to find her already already as aroused as he was, and at the first flick of his tongue she let out a choked gasp and her thighs tightened against his shoulders, her hand coming to the top of his head and gripping his hair tightly.  
  
“Oh my god, Henry,” she gasped.  
  
There was nothing slow and gentle about it, as he licked and sucked and worked her until her legs were trembling, her grip so tight on his hair it nearly drew tears to his eyes, but god to listen to her whimpering did things to him, made him moan against her, revelling in the taste of her, and it wasn’t long before she ground against his face, and then cried out that she was coming, hips twitching with every pulse against his tongue.  He slowed and eased off, stroking her hips and thighs softly until he placed one more gentle kiss against her and straightened, a pleased grin on his face.  
  
She looked dazed, pleasantly wrecked, and she wrapped her arms around him and gave him a lazy kiss.  
  
“Well that was amazing,” she said, and then ran a hand over his chin with a faint laugh.  “God, you’re a mess.”  
  
“I have no doubt.”  He grinned happily.  
  
She slid off the counter, body brushing against him, and his eyes fluttered closed as he pressed into her, the gentle grind against her thoroughly unconscious, but oh, he wanted to be inside her.  Her hand worked between them and he gave her space to fondle him through the thin fabric of his boxers.  She pressed lightly and his head fell back with a sigh.  
  
“Yep, definitely like you like this,” Jo said, that teasing amusement back in her voice, and he opened his eyes to look back at her.    
  
Her hand slid over him again, pressing harder, and he ground against her palm with something that sounded painfully like a whimper of his own.    
  
She gave him a firm squeeze and he leaned in to kiss her eagerly, but she pulled back with a wide grin on her face and removed her hand.  He could see her game now, and he gave her a mock growl.  
  
“You’re cruel, you know know that?”  
  
“And you quite like it,” she echoed him with a teasing tone.  “Now wash your face.”  
  
He leaned back with a theatrical moan, but with a smile and a shake of his head went to wash up as told, certain he was going to be stuck with a throbbing erection for the rest of the day if she had her way.   And damned if he didn’t find the idea arousing as hell—which certainly wasn’t going to help with minimizing that state.  
  
He looked at himself in the bathroom mirror;  hair a fuzzy mess, face damp from her, cheeks and lips flushed red, and a rueful smile.  Well, if she was bent on teasing him, he was going to make sure he made her come every single time she did.  Eventually she’d give in.  
  
  
***  
  
  
She was relentless; this time she pumped him until he could barely concentrate on the movement of his fingers inside her as they sprawled on the couch.  She mercilessly stilled her hand every time his hips thrust to meet her fist wrapped around him, every time he came close, until he couldn’t stop the wheezing whine of desperation and was near ready to beg.  Her grip tightened with the force of her orgasm and he pushed into her fist.  
  
But her hand dropped away with a last squeeze as she looked up at him innocently, him braced over her staring down at her, his chest heaving, his groin heavy and throbbing.  
  
“You’re going to do me in,” he panted.  He adopted a pleading expression.  “Have mercy, Jo.”  
  
“Not yet,” she said with her teasing smile.  
  
He closed his eyes and groaned.  Maybe this game was going to be harder than he thought.  
  
  
***  
  
He couldn’t keep his hands off her, and each affectionate touch quickly took a turn into arousal, setting him off again, and he swore even in his hormonal youth he hadn’t had so many erections in a day.  Her constant teasing was as much an aphrodisiac as the physical stimulation, the presses against him, the sliding of her hands over his body, but it was devilish look on her face that said she knew just what she was doing to him that set him following her around the house like an unfixed hound.    
  
When she pushed him down on the bed and climbed over him he kissed her impatiently, hands flat against her rear and grinding up against her with a desperation he was certain he’d not felt in—god, he couldn’t remember when.  He cried out in relief as she slid herself onto him, the tight heat feeling so very, very good.    
  
She sat up, rocking her hips, and he clutched at her thighs, his mind already blank with anything but a desperate drive to pursue his own selfish satisfaction.  But she was taking care of herself, fingers working at her clit, her eyes drawn in concentration, the rocking of her hips just a little too slow and shallow for him.  
  
“Jo,” he gasped.  “Jo, please.”  
  
Her fingers moved on herself, brushing against his groin, and her smile wavered as she gasped.  
  
“God, I don’t know if I can come again,” she panted.  He thrust his hips up again, driving himself into her, and her eyes fluttered. “Oh, yes.  Do that again.”  
  
He gripped her hips hard and braced his feet flat on the bed and thrust up into her.  His stomach muscles shuddered as he did it again, his entire focus on not letting himself rut blindly into her as he wanted, but to wait until she’d found her orgasm, trying to match the timing of her slower movements.  
  
“Yes,” she gasped, and she tipped forward, her free hand bracing on his shoulder, and her hips ground down against him, clenching around him.  “Yes, god, yes.”  
  
Henry put a hand on the back of her head, pulling her into a kiss, desperately mouthing at her lips, lifting his hips to thrust into her.  
  
“Stop,” she breathed.  “Wait.”  
  
With effort, he did, and when he could see her expression, it was that same sly look.  No, she couldn’t possibly—oh, god.  He was buried inside her, his skin crawling with how much he wanted to come.  There was no artifice to his desperation now.  
  
“You can’t be serious,” he pleaded, his voice cracking.  “Please.”  
  
She bit her lip, assessing him carefully, and he tried to calm his breathing, waiting for her answer.  
  
“Too far?” she asked quietly.  
  
She had a faint sense of worry about her, and he wasn’t entirely sure if he wanted to finish this game of hers now, or wait it out until she said it was over.  Two completely different temptations warred with each other, but in the end he let his head roll back with a pained groan, hands falling to the bed at his sides.  
  
“No, it’s alright,” he sighed, and then he fixed her with a narrow-eyed glare.  “But I swear if it’s possible to die of sexual frustration, I might just manage it.”  
  
“That’ll be an interesting one for your journals,” she said, and he whined a little as she slid off him, rolling away.    
  
He stared at the ceiling,  and indulged himself in a brief grasp of his reddened erection and a simple stroke before letting go.  He rolled to sitting on the edge of the bed to find Jo watching him, amused, hands on her naked hips.  He looked her up and down, at her unapologetic stance, and chuckled lightly.    
  
“I hope you had no plans to leave the house today, because I very much doubt I’ll be in a decent condition for the public.”  He waved a hand towards his slowly wilting erection.  
  
“Nope, nowhere to be today,” she assured him, and stooped to kiss him on the cheek.  
  
He sighed as he watched her go into the bathroom and start up the shower.    
  
  
***  
  
  
Her hands touched his knees and slid up his thighs, and Henry looked up, startled.  Jo was kneeling between his legs, and he hadn’t even noticed her approach, absorbed as he was in the book while tucked up in her overstuffed living room armchair.  The well-worn book of poetry had been about the only thing keeping his mind off daydreams of Jo, but that diversion dissipated in a flash at the feel of her hands on him.    
  
“Busy?” she said, voice pitched low.  
  
“Not anymore.”  He tossed the book aside, hands on the arms of the chair, and raised an eyebrow as she slid her hands further up.  “Something on your mind?”  
  
Her thumbs stroked the inside of his thighs, and he let out an unsteady breath.  She locked her gaze with his, and then hooked a finger in his belt.  He was on a hair trigger, and already his body was rising with interest at the promise of whatever she intended to offer him this time.  
  
She unbuckled his belt and pulled the button open, and tugged at his hips until he slouched down in the chair.  
  
“Should I, ah,” the thought ended in an inhaled breath as she dragged her fingernails against his growing erection, the sensation travelling easily through the thin fabric of his trousers.  
  
“I’m good,” she answered.  “More than.”  
  
She tugged his zipper down, then bent forward to lay a soft kiss against his groin, and his head fell back against the chair back.  Her mouth; let it be her mouth, oh, he’d give anything for that right now—he was as close to prayer as a man could get, and he let out an explosive breath when she nuzzled against his groin.  
  
“Please, Jo,” he groaned.  
  
“Alright, alright, I’ll get there,” she teased.  
  
Her amusement was enough to work a laugh from him at his own expense.  Normally he wasn’t impatient, more than willing to wait, to prolong things with her, until it was usually Jo prodding him along.  No wonder she was having such fun with this game, goading him to the point of begging as soon as she showed any signs of indulging him.  He imagined she wouldn’t let him live this down for a long time.  
  
She pulled his erection out through the flap of his boxers, exposing him, and after one long, hot and damp lick up the length of him, slid her mouth down all the way.  
  
“Oh, thank god,” he breathed, and she laughed around him, making him twitch and shift in the chair.  
  
Almost immediately she found a smooth and steady rhythm, her fist tight around the base of his cock to hold him steady while her mouth slid up and down, her tongue hot and curved against the underside, and his eyes rolled back in his head, his hips twitching and unconsciously rocking up into the wet heat, though he tried to hold still as best he could, fingers digging into the arms of the chair.  
  
“I won’t last long like this,” he choked out, and she hummed a soft noise of agreement, and he gasped as she slid down again, then up, and her tongue stroked over the head of him.  “Oh, god.  Jo, I’m—“  
  
She pulled off and his head snapped up, eyes wide.  
  
“No, no—please, oh—“  
  
Her fist stroked the length of him once, and he shuddered, words stolen away, the edge of orgasm sneaking up on him, and he whimpered, hips tilting up, desperately watching her brown eyes studying him in return, gauging the state of him.  She did it again, and closer, god, he was so close.  She kissed the tip of his cock, and the sensation boiled over.  He curled in on himself, cock twitching hard in her hand, and he groaned loudly, the dry and half-satisfying orgasm catching him by surprise, leaving him quivering and panting and, if possible, even more desperate.    
  
Her hand moved again and his panting breath was a steady whine now, and when his hands had come to clutch her hair he had no idea, his legs shaking as she stroked him.  This was ludicrous, how completely gone he was, what she did to him, that she could make him like this.  His head drove back into the chair once more as she closed her mouth over him again.  Pleading words were leaking out of him in a steady stream as she took up a steady rhythm again, down, back up, tongue spiralling over and around when she reached the head of him, and back.  
  
“Jo, Jo, I’m—“  
  
He tried to choke out the warning but she didn’t withdraw, merely kept moving on him, hot and then tight, and tighter, and he cried out, hips lifting, body pulsing again and again, seemingly forever, his orgasm blinding him to everything but the intense, painful relief thundering through him.  Finally it subsided, and every muscle relaxed into jelly, leaving him limp and shivering.     
  
Jo sat back on her heels and he stared at her, quite beyond words, managing at least to reach out and stroke her cheek.  
  
She made a face and wrinkled her nose, then held up a finger.  She disappeared for a moment, and then was back, having obviously gone to wash her mouth out.  
  
“Sorry,” he offered.  “I tried to warn you.”  
  
“It’s fine.  Better that than all over my chair,” she said lightly.  “But that was…that was a lot.”  
  
“It’s been a long day.”  He waved a hand airily, far too languorous to manage more.  “These things add up, you know.”  
  
She tucked him away and then settled into his lap, curling up with him.  He wrapped his arms around her and nuzzled into her hair, content in his afterglow and the solid feel of her in his arms.  
  
“Thank you,” he murmured.  “That was lovely.  Worth the wait.”  
  
She snuggled into him with a sigh,and he relaxed into the drowsy, pleasant feeling making his limbs heavy, until her soft breathing and warmth lulled him into a doze.    
  
  
  



End file.
